


Mr. Philips

by TrevorPhilipsIndustries



Series: Trevor and Jane [3]
Category: Grand Theft Auto V
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-10
Updated: 2018-02-10
Packaged: 2018-12-26 06:39:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,293
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12053409
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TrevorPhilipsIndustries/pseuds/TrevorPhilipsIndustries
Summary: Jane walked into Trevor's life and everything changed for him. The wild, rage-filled man that she first met had grown into quite the family man; but at the end of the day, he is still the crazy, untamed Trevor Philips that she first fell in love with. A series of one-shots about a future in which Trevor Philips gets married and has children.





	1. In the Beginning

"Daddy!" The little girl tore through the front yard, her brown curly hair bouncing with each step.  
  
"Coralie, the flowers!" I shouted through the open window, watching her sprint through the flower bed I had worked so hard on. I watched as Trevor slammed the door of his Bodhi behind him, catching the small girl as she hurled herself into his arms.  
  
"Hey, angel!" He laughed, hoisting her up onto his hip, and headed toward the front door. I reached out my right hand as he stepped inside, pulling his face towards mine, and planted a kiss on his lips.  
  
"Daddy, I made a painting!" Coralie told Trevor, practically vibrating with excitement as he put her down in front of him.  
  
"You did?!" He cooed, poking her nose gently. I watched as she grabbed his hand, pulling him into the living room to show him her artwork. I watched from the kitchen as she handed him her painting.  
  
"It smells amazing in here, gorgeous," Trevor told me.  
  
I smiled at him as I set the table, and began plating up the grilled chicken and vegetables I had just finished making. Trevor stepped into the kitchen, helping me pour drinks for the three of us.  
  
"Michael called, he said he'd be stopping by later." I told him, sitting down across from him at the table. Coralie sat on her knees in her chair as she began chewing on a bite of chicken.  
  
"What's that fat fu-" Trevor stopped, noticing the little girl looking up at him with wide eyes, and started his sentence over, "What's he want?"  
  
"I think he's got a birthday present for someone," I said in a singsongy voice, smiling at Coralie. She grinned, dancing around in her seat.  
  
"I'm gonna be six!" She exclaimed, and began chattering on about how she was 'practically a grown up.'  
  
"You know, big girls always eat their vegetables," Trevor spoke up, watching her push a bit of steamed broccoli around her plate.  
  
She scrunched up her freckled nose, staring down at her plate. "Noooo," she whined.  
  
"Three more bites." I tried to make a deal with her. She heaved a sigh, and begrudgingly bit into the piece of broccoli she had been playing with. She grimaced, dropping her fork onto her plate.  
  
"It's bad! I don't want any more!" She complained.  
  
I held up two fingers, looking at her plate and then back to her. "Two more bites."  
  
She groaned, placing her head in her hands. "Fuck," she muttered.  
  
Trevor snorted, stifling a laugh. I gasped, clasping a hand over my mouth. "Coralie, we do not use that word," I scolded. Trevor snickered, no longer able to hide his amusement. "It's not funny, Trev! She learned it from you!" I narrowed my eyes at him.  
  
He straightened out, trying to look serious, and told Coralie, "Mommy is right, sweetheart, you shouldn't talk like that." I cleared my throat, looking at him expectantly, and he continued, "And neither should I."  
  
I patted him on the shoulder as I passed by him, bringing dishes into the kitchen. He stood up, and I could hear him speaking in hushed tones to Coralie, "One more bite and we'll tell mommy it was two."  
  
"I heard that!" I jumped in, waving Trevor into the kitchen to help me clean up.  
  
"I'm done, mommy, can I go outside and play?" Coralie bounded toward the front door, scaring the cat, who went sprinting upstairs.  
  
"Just for a little while, honey, it's almost dark," I told her. Trevor smacked my behind with the dish towel he had just been using to dry dishes, and came up close behind me. He pushed my hair over one shoulder and planted a few rough, stubbly kisses on the back of my neck. "I missed you in bed this morning," I hummed.  
  
"I bet you did." Trevor wiggled his eyebrows up and down at me, smacking my behind again, this time with the palm of his hand.  
  
"You know what I meant." I turned to look at him. He placed his hands on my hips, pulling me in for a kiss.  
  
"So," he began, "How has Coralie been today?"  
  
"Absolutely crazy, as she usually is."  
  
"Just like her mother," he teased me.

“Sure, I’m the crazy one,” I laughed. I patted his cheek, pretending to slap him in faux anger.

“Well, I’m certainly not the crazy one. I was perfectly sane; living a boring, monotonous life, until you came along, that is.” He pointed a finger at me, wiggling it around in my face. “What a lunatic, you are. Slowly turning my life into chaos.”

I scrunched my nose at him and he chuckled, "I swear, you girls are gonna be the death of me. I need another guy around here."

  
Right on cue, Coralie came barreling through the front door, pulling Michael along by the hand.  
  
"Can't believe this one is about to be six," Michael said, pointing at her.  
  
"Can't believe you somehow look even worse than the last time I saw you," Trevor teased him. Michael ignored his comment, pulling him in for a half hug and patting him on the back. I noticed Michael was carrying a rectangular object wrapped in pink glittery paper and purple ribbons.  
  
Apparently Coralie had noticed well before I had, because her eyes were fixated on the shiny object, and she whined, "Uncle Mike, can I pleeease open my present?"  
  
He looked down at her and teased, "Who said this was for you?" She furrowed her brow and crossed her arms, not finding his joke very funny. She looked just like Trevor when she was angry. It was uncanny, really. He chuckled and handed her the box, adding in, "That's from Aunt Amanda and Tracey and Jimmy too, alright?"  
  
"How are they doing, Michael?" I spoke up, watching Coralie tear open her gift.  
  
"Ah, they're just great. Tracey just graduated college, can you believe it?"  
  
"That's great news! I'm so glad to see you all doing well," I told him.  
  
"It looks like me!" Coralie shouted, holding up a new doll who resembled her, with caramel eyes and a head full of brown curls. She leapt off the couch, tackling Michael in a hug, and exclaimed, "Thank you Uncle Mike!"  
  
"That was nice of you, Mikey, thanks," Trevor said graciously. We watched Coralie sit down on the living room floor, introducing her new doll to her collection.  
  
"Ah, it's nothin', T. Listen, I'm just glad you're happy. Never thought I'd see this; you getting married and havin' a kid and all. Unbelievable, really." He looked over at me, shaking his head. "I don't know how you did this, Jane, but it's great. Never seen him happier."  
  
I couldn't hold back my smile as I wrapped my arms around Trevor's waist and pulled him close to me. He rested a hand on my shoulder and shifted his attention to Coralie, who was sitting on the floor, playing with her new doll.  
  
"Sweetheart," Trevor spoke up, trying to get the little girl's attention, "Why don't you go put on your PJs?" She did as she was asked, barreling up the stairs; how such a little girl could make so much noise was beyond me.  
  
"So," Trevor began, speaking quietly, "We gotta talk about this score comin’ up.”

Michael nodded in agreement, and they retreated to the living room couch to speak in hushed tones, planning out every move of their next score. I didn’t love that Trevor was still willingly putting himself in danger with a child in the picture, but he was always careful to avoid anything being traced back to us. Still, even though he seemed invincible after years of crime and rage-induced fights, there was always a lingering fear of becoming a single mother, not to mention a widow. I tried not to listen to what they were saying as I finished putting away the dishes. 

“I’m ready for bed!” Coralie announced as she sprinted back down the stairs. Trevor gestured for Coralie to come sit on his lap, and Michael stood up, putting his jacket back on.

“Take care of yourself, Michael,” I told him, giving him a friendly hug.

“You too, Jane. And watch out for this one, he’s bad news,” he chuckled, pointing at Trevor. Trevor scowled at him, clearly not amused.

“I’ll put you in the ground, Mikey,” he responded calmly, leaning back into the couch cushions. Michael dismissed his comment with a wave and an eye roll.

“See ya Thursday, T.”

We watched as Michael let himself out, trudging down the front steps and out to his car.

“Time to put this one to bed,” Trevor spoke up, ruffling Coralie’s hair.

 

-

 

"I've already read you two books, peanut, you gotta go to sleep!" Trevor poked Coralie on the nose.  
  
"One more, daddy! Please?" She begged, jumping out of bed and running to her bookshelf. He let out a defeated sigh as he watched her pull another picture book off the shelf.  
  
"One more," he told her as he took the book from her hands. I watched from the doorway as he opened the front cover, and began reading to the little girl. She sat curled up beside him, head resting against his shoulder, and her eyelids grew heavier with each page turn.  
  
"She's asleep, love," I spoke softly, gesturing at Coralie. Trevor looked down at the small girl, fast asleep in her pink pajamas spattered with little yellow ducks, and dark brown curls falling over her eyes. He slowly wriggled his shoulder out from under her head, laying her down on her pillow when she stirred. He pulled the blankets up over her, and I watched as he gently stroked her hair, pushing her little brown curls out of her face.  
  
"Goodnight daddy," she mumbled, half asleep.  
  
"Goodnight, angel, I love you," he whispered. I took him by the hand and led him out of the room, shutting off the light on the way out.  
  
"Hard to believe that little one is about to be six," I told Trevor as I sat at the end of our bed, changing into my pajamas.  
  
"I feel like I was just holding her in the hospital," he agreed.  
  
"Trevor," I looked up at him as he pulled his shirt off over his head, "Are you happy? Like really happy?"  
  
"Ah, gorgeous, are you kiddin' me?" He put a hand up to the side of my face and smiled down at me. "I am in heaven. I got you, and I got that little beauty in the other room. I got a wife and a kid and a house. This is everything that I thought I'd never get. I was fine with that until I met you. You have given me everything in my life worth havin'. Whatcha think, I wanna go back to livin' in my trailer in Sandy Shores? Like hell I do."  
  
"I love you," I whispered to him. His lips caught mine in a tender kiss.  
  
"I love you, too, cupcake."


	2. Conflict/The Dance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! I had two sort of small chapters written up, so I decided to just combine them into one! I hope you all like it. :)

It was eleven at night when I heard Trevor's truck pull into the driveway. He had been gone since before the sun came up that morning, tending to his meth business in Sandy Shores. I met him outside in my slippers as he made his way up the front walk, greeting him quietly as to not wake up Coralie.

"Hey, beautiful," he greeted me. I smiled at him, wrapping my arms around him in a tight hug.

"You were gone a long time. I thought you'd be home for dinner," I said casually. The corners of his mouth turned down into a frown, and he furrowed his brow at me.

"I had a lotta shit to do, princess. Ron was breathing down my fuckin' neck all day and Wade wouldn't shut the hell up. How's a guy supposed to get anything done?" His voice was sharp and heated.

I looked at him quizzically. His reaction was odd. Normally he could read every nuance in my voice. I took his hand in mine and pulled him towards the front door. "Love, I wasn't mad at you. I was just saying-"

"Saying what?" He cut me off. "Huh?" He stalked into the kitchen, heading for the fridge. His eyes scanned the contents of the refrigerator, looking for something to eat.

I ignored his sharp response; I figured he must have just been overtired. He did have a long day, after all. "Are you hungry? Do you want me to make you something to eat?"

He nodded at me as he took a seat at the kitchen table. "You spoil me," he added as he watched me take out lunch meat and veggies from the fridge to make him a sandwich.

"I missed you," I told him as I shredded some lettuce. "How's the business?"

"Eh, same shit, different day," he muttered.

"So everything is good, then?"

"Yeah, I guess. Oh, I broke a rib," he said nonchalantly.

"What?" I dropped my knife on the cutting board and turned to look at him. "You could've told me that right away, Trev! Are you okay? What happened?"

"Nothin' serious; I got into a fight at the bar."

I rolled my eyes at his answer. I was slightly irritated that he had apparently been hanging out at the bar when he could've been at home with Coralie and me, but I let it go. "What were you fighting about?

He looked annoyed by my questions, leaning back into his chair and rolling his eyes at me. "What's with the twenty questions, eh? Can't a man just come home and get some peace and quiet?"

"Jesus, sorry, I just wanted to know about your day. What's with the attitude, Trev?" I slid a plate onto the table in front of him and he immediately grabbed at the turkey sandwich I had made, tearing into it hungrily.

"Sorry, you're right. I'm bein' a dick. I'm just… tired."

I sat down across from him, sipping the green tea I had made myself before he got home. "Do you want something to drink?"

"Pißwasser," he answered bluntly.

"How many did you drink at the bar?" I asked, grabbing a glass bottle from the door of the refrigerator.

"Three. What's it fuckin' matter to you?" He snapped.

I looked at him with a wounded expression on my face. "What's your problem, Trevor? Why are you acting like this?" I leaned forward, perched on the edge of my seat, and studied his face as he bit into his sandwich. My heart dropped as I came to a conclusion, and I clamped a hand over my mouth.

"You smoked up, didn't you?" My voice was quiet; almost threatening.

"So what if I did?" He sounded completely unbothered, and I felt the rage boiling up inside me. How could he be so nonchalant about this?

"You have a child sleeping upstairs! You cannot be coming home high!" I tried to keep my voice down, but I couldn't reel myself in. He had been clean for almost seven years; how could he see nothing wrong with what he did?

"Would you rather me have just not come home?" His eyes had grown dark and angry-looking, and his mouth was twisted into a frown.

"What? No! I would rather you think about your family before you go get high!" I tried to calm myself as I spoke up again, "Baby, you were doing so well."

"Well, I was. Now I'm not."

"Trevor," I spoke softly but firmly, "This is not okay anymore. It was one thing when it was just you and me. I was patient with you while you got clean, but we have a child, now. Coralie cannot be around this. You were doing so well. I just thought-"

He cut me off, "Well, you thought wrong, sweetheart! You knew what you were getting yourself into when you married me!"

"I don't like this, Trevor," I whispered, suddenly blinking back tears. I had been keeping something from Trevor, and I knew now wasn't the right moment to tell him, but I could feel it scratching its way to the surface.

"Then leave."

I sobbed into sleeve of my sweatshirt as tears streamed down my face. "You don't mean that."

"You know, what, you're right," he stood up abruptly, knocking the chair down behind him, "You stay. I'll fuckin' leave."

"Trevor!" I cried, chasing him out the front door and out to his truck.

"It's pretty goddamn clear that I'm not good enough for you, so I'll just leave you alone. That's what you want, right? Huh?" He barked at me, wrenching his arm out of my grip.

"Trevor, I'm pregnant!" God, I looked so pathetic; a shattered look on my face, tears streaming down my cheeks, standing on the front lawn in my slippers.

He froze, looking at me with wide eyes. "W-what?" He stuttered.

"I was waiting to tell you, but I just-"

"I'm sorry, I'm gonna have to clean the shit outta my ears, because I must've heard you wrong," he said, eyes wide with disbelief. He ran his fingers through his hair, exhaling loudly.

"I'm pregnant," I repeated timidly, my voice shaky and weak. "I didn't want to tell you like this but-"

"No, no, no, no, shut up. Shut the fuck up. We can't have another kid! I already-" He paused. "I'm already a shitty father to one kid; I can't do it all again. This is a problem; this is bad."

I felt my stomach drop. His harsh words stung, and I began to worry if I was about to become a single mother. I sniffled, wiping the tears away from my cheeks. "Are you going to leave me, Trevor?" I asked, my voice wavering. "Please don't leave. I need you."

Trevor turned to look at me, and I saw his hardened expression soften when he noticed the look of panic that had washed over my face. He took a few strides towards me, and placed one of his rough, calloused hands on my cheek, wiping a tear away with his thumb.

"No, no, no, cupcake," he said, lowering his voice to nearly a whisper, "I'm not going anywhere."

"But you said-"

"I'm not going anywhere. I'm sorry. I'm just… surprised. But I've made enough fuckin' mistakes in my life; that's not gonna be one of 'em." He let his fingers glide through my hair, and placed his forehead against mine, closing his eyes.

"Love," I whispered to him, "You're not a shitty father."

He chuckled, but it was hollow and vacant of any emotion. "You don't have to lie to me."

I put my arms around his waist and pulled him close, resting my head on his chest. "I mean it, Trevor. You're a good father; have you seen the way Coralie looks at you?"

I felt his rough fingers intertwine with mine, and I listened to his heartbeat slow and return to a normal resting rate. I looked up at him and gently pressed my lips against his. "I need you to stay clean, though. I need you around; I need you healthy."

He sounded broken and weak when he spoke up again, "I don't know if I can."

I pulled away, looking up at him with concern in my eyes. "Where is this coming from? What happened out there today, love?"

He swallowed hard, looking down at his feet. "My mother showed up."

"Oh," I whispered, "And?"

"She wanted money."

"You gave it to her…" I guessed, trailing off at the end of my sentence.

He nodded, and I could see him trying to hold himself together. "She left after that."

"Oh, Trev," I sighed, cupping his face in my hands. "I'm sorry."

"I don't wanna talk about this anymore," he muttered, pulling away from my embrace. I followed him inside into the living room, where he parked himself on the couch, staring straight ahead. I moved his arms out of the way as I sat down on his lap, wrapping my arms around his neck.

"Hey," I put a hand under his chin, lifting his head to look at me, "we're having a baby." I smiled weakly at him, hoping he would react positively.

He smiled back at me, gently rubbing my back. He raised his free hand to his head to massage his temples. "God, I'm gettin' too old for this shit."

 

-

 

  


Trevor disliked the yearly dance recitals. He loved seeing Coralie on stage, dancing her heart out with the rest of the girls in her class, but I knew he hated the judgmental stares and rude comments from other parents. Of course, that wasn't to say that Trevor gave a damn about what other people thought of him, but restraining himself from snapping and insulting them back wasn't easy for him. Still, he showed up each year with flowers for his little girl and loads of enthusiasm.

"When is Coralie's class up?" Trevor whispered to me, clearly becoming impatient with sitting through a dance recital which, thus far, did not include his daughter.

I reassured him with a pat on the arm. "She's up next." We sat patiently as the stage went dark, and the intro to 'Pink Elephants on Parade' began to play.

"Look how cute she looks." I pointed her out on the far right as the lights went up. She and the seven other girls on stage wore knee-length, pink, polka dotted dresses with matching elbow length gloves and pink feathers in their hair, which looked especially cute in Coralie's big brown curls. Trevor sat beside me, watching intently as she twirled and jumped around the stage.

"Can you believe we made that little person?" He whispered to me, his line of vision never straying from the stage.

"Can you believe we made another?" I responded to him in hushed tones. I caught a hint of a smile on his face as I glanced over at him.

Trevor pointed to our little girl on stage, speaking quietly into my ear again, "She's gotten really good. Pretty impressive, especially for a seven year old." I nodded in agreement, taking his hand in mine as we watched the rest of her dance.

Trevor fidgeted in his seat through the rest of the recital, clearly having mentally checked out after Coralie left the stage. He was all too excited to get up and go find Coralie at the end of the show. The back hallways were crowded with students and parents, all trying to find each other.

"Jane!" I was greeted by a tall, skinny woman, with large eyes and short, cropped blonde hair.

"Linda!" I said with faux enthusiasm. I only tolerated Linda because her daughter, Ava, was Coralie's best friend. Trevor rolled his eyes, making it apparent that he was not thrilled to see her.

"Trevor," she said coldly in his direction. He shot her a fake, emotionless grin. He stood behind me, sulking, with his hands crossed over his chest.

"Weren't they just precious? Aren't they growing up too fast?" Linda spoke quickly, gesticulating wildly with her hands. "We're thinking of enrolling Ava in a new dance studio next year; their teacher is just so abrasive and loud. Listening to her chatter away every week is horrible."

"Sounds familiar," Trevor grumbled behind me. I elbowed him in the side, shooting him a warning glare. Linda's face twisted into a sour expression as she turned her attention to Trevor.

"Trevor, you're actually dressed up today." She looked him over, seeming rather unimpressed. I thought he looked nice. He wore all black; dress pants, a new button down shirt and a pair of dress shoes. Linda spoke up again, "Normally when I drop off Ava at your house, you're just in those old grey sweatpants."

"Yeah, I don't usually wear a three piece suit while I'm mowing the lawn," he snapped.

"Trevor," I warned.

"Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed, huh?" Linda half-joked, looking at me. She was clearly trying to get to him.

"Listen, lady-"

I jabbed Trevor in his side again, stopping him in the middle of his sentence. He changed the topic. "We should go find Coralie. We'll be seeing you and Ava soon, I'm sure." Trevor disappeared into the crowd of parents and children as I said goodbye to Linda. God, the woman was abhorrent. I found Trevor searching for Coralie with a frustrated expression on his face. I touched him on the arm as I returned to his side, and he whirled around to face me.

"God, I fucking hate that woman," he spat through bared teeth.

"I know, I do too."

"Who the fuck does she think she is, disrespecting me like that?" His voice was growing louder as he spoke, and a few people around us had turned to look in our direction. "I don't know how her husband puts up with her. She's got crazy eyes, you know that?" His eyes bulged as he mimicked Linda's constant express; he wasn't wrong. The woman had some serious crazy eyes.

I took his face in my hands and pulled him close to me, looking into his eyes, which were full of pent up anger. "Love," I spoke softly, "I know you're angry, but remember where we are."

"Mommy! Daddy!" I heard Coralie's voice through the crowd, and turned to see her skipping over to us. Like a light switch, I watched Trevor's expression change from rage-filled and hateful to sweet and excited.

"Pumpkin!" Trevor held his arms out in a grand fashion, extending the bouquet of pink flowers he had been holding in her direction. "You were incredible!" She grinned from ear to ear at us, throwing herself into Trevor's arms. He hoisted her up and she reached in my direction, pulling me into a hug.

"How about ice cream for our talented girl?" I tucked a loose curl behind her ear, and her eyes lit up with excitement. Trevor gently put Coralie back down, taking her hand in his and letting her lead the way.

"Let's get the hell outta here," he muttered to me as she pulled him along behind her.


	3. Family issues

“Coralie, honey, come here. You need more sunblock.” She sat a few feet away from Trevor and I, giggling and building a sand castle with her sister. I gestured at Coralie to come over to our blanket in the sand. “You too, Scarlett. Come here.” The three year old came toddling over to us, swinging a plastic shovel around.

“Easy with that thing, killer,” Trevor chuckled. He sat beside me, staring out at the ocean as if he were watching a movie. He turned his attention to me as I slathered both of the girls in sunblock. “Whatcha girls buildin’?” He pointed at the pile of plastic shovels and buckets in the sand.

“A sand castle, dad,” Coralie said in an exasperated tone. “Duh.” She rolled her eyes at him. She was only ten years old; too young for the attitude, but we knew she was only joking.

“Hey, watch the tone, missy,” Trevor pointed a finger at her, lowering his sunglasses on his nose to make eye contact with her. “I might have to throw you in the ocean!” He pulled her gently towards him, tickling her in the side. She shrieked with laughter, trying to escape his grasp. I couldn’t help but smile as he pulled Scarlett towards him, as well, holding them both by his side as he tickled them.

“Can we go in the water?” Coralie asked us as she managed to wiggle her way out of Trevor’s grasp. I nodded at her.

“Just stay with Scarlett, okay? And stay where we can see you. Don’t go too far.” She quickly grabbed Scarlett’s hand, jogging towards the water as she dragged her sister along behind her. 

“Look how much fun they’re having. Aren’t you glad we came out to the city for the weekend?” I nudged Trevor in the side, and leaned my head against his shoulder. Somehow, I had convinced Trevor to take the girls and I into the city for my birthday, despite how much he disliked it.

“I guess,” he grunted. “Still hate it out here. I’m glad they’re havin’ fun, though.”

“You know you’re having fun; admit it.” I scrunched my nose at him.

“Only because you three are with me. The trips out here by myself are all bullshit.”

“Maybe you should sell the strip club,” I suggested, “Less trips that way.”

“Maybe.” He leaned back onto his elbows in the sand. “So what do ya say about dropping the girls off with Michael or Frank for the evening and you and I can go get some dinner?”

My eyes lit up at his suggestion. “Do you have any ideas?”

“Pearl’s Seafood?” He pointed at Paradise Pier off in the distance, pushing his sunglasses up on the bridge of his nose. I nodded enthusiastically.  
“Lemme make a few calls.”

I sat quietly, listening to Trevor chatter away on the phone, first with Michael, and then Franklin. I was excited at the prospect of having a nice dinner, just the two of us. It had been a while since we had been able to anything like that. Living out in Paleto Bay, we were too far from my family and most of our friends to ask them to babysit, and with how overprotective Trevor was with the girls, finding a babysitter he trusted wasn’t easy.

“Good news,” Trevor spoke up, pulling me out of my thoughts, “Frank’s gonna watch them for us. And I got us a reservation.”

I clapped my hands together, smiling sweetly at him. “You’re the best.”

“And the most handsome,” he added.

“And so humble,” I laughed. Suddenly, a thought registered in my mind, and I spat out, “Oh, I don’t have anything nice to wear to dinner!”

“Good thing I packed your red dress when you weren’t looking.” He grinned at me.

“Oh, Trev, that dress is so small on me,” I groaned.

“That’s the point,” he wiggled his eyebrows at me suggestively. I ignored his comment, wrapping my arms around his waist as I scooted closer to him. “What, no reaction whatsoever?” He sounded disappointed. “What’s the fun in teasing you if you don’t even react?”

“You’re a pain,” I joked, planting a kiss on his stubbly cheek.

 

-

 

“I had a reservation,” Trevor stated, squaring his shoulder and standing up confidently. “Should be under Philips.” I looked up at him, observing his stance and the way he interacted with the hostess. He was proud of himself, for sure. He didn’t do things like this too often; planning weekend getaways, making lunch reservations at expensive restaurants. It was all so unlike him, but then again, he’d do anything for his family. The hostess led the two of us to a small table at the far end of the restaurant, pressed up against a wall of large windows that overlooked the ocean.

“This is really nice, Trev. Really,” I held his hand across the table.

“Goddamn, you are gorgeous,” he told me, stroking the back of my hand with his thumb.

“You’re too much.” I took a strand of hair in my free hand, twirling it around my fingers. Admittedly, I felt pretty good about how I looked that night. Trevor packed my red dress for good reason; I looked pretty nice in it. I had put on a fresh face of makeup in Franklin’s bathroom mirror when we dropped off the girls at his house, and the salt water had given my hair the perfect beachy waves.

“I mean it, Janie. You look incredible. I don’t even know what you’re doin’ with a dirty old man like me.”

“Stop it. You’re neither of those things.”

He looked down at his menu and smiled to himself, tapping his fingers against the hard surface of the table. The waitress came around and Trevor ordered for me; a glass of wine and the lobster. Of course he would order me the most expensive thing on the menu. He looked quite pleased with himself.

“So, gorgeous, are you havin’ a good time out here?” He looked unsure of himself as he spoke, as if he was expecting a negative response.

I smiled, putting down my wine glass in front of me. “I am, Trevor. Thank you.”

I looked out the window at the sun setting over the water. This truly was a perfect trip. I had never been spoiled by any other man the way I was with Trevor. He would do anything to make me happy. “Trev,” I said, thinking aloud, “I’ve always wondered… Why me? Why go through all of this effort for me? You said you’d never get married and here we are. You said you’d never have kids and we have two now. I know that’s not what you planned on. So why me?”

“Ah, cupcake, you can’t be serious?” He looked at me with his eyebrows raised, waiting for a response. I shrugged, looking down at my plate. “You are gorgeous. I know I say it a lot but you really are. You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. I don’t know what you see in me, but I hit it outta the park with you. And you’re real. You’ve always been real with me; no bullshit, no fake personality. Everybody out here is full of shit. All they care about is money and fame and what kind plastic surgery they’re gonna get next. But not you.”

I smiled sweetly at him. For someone so rough around the edges, Trevor was such a softie inside. He looked vulnerable as he finished speaking, as if he was looking for reassurance that what he had just said was alright. “But not me,” I repeated quietly. I decided to change the subject, as I could see him becoming uncomfortable. "My parents called yesterday. They're coming for dinner next Saturday."

Trevor cleared his throat in disgust. "Must we always do this, Jane? They come over, we fight with them, they leave. I mean, if that's what you want, I'll keep doing it, but doesn't it make you unhappy?"

I sighed. I knew he was right. "They're my parents, Trev." I took a bite of my toast before continuing. "I just... I can't give up on them."

"You're too sweet to be with a heartless bastard like me, you know that?"

I smiled sweetly at him. I hoped for the best at dinner next weekend, but expected the worst. The last time my parents had come for dinner, my father and Trevor had ended up in a screaming match, with my mother and me on the sidelines in tears. My parents had never come to accept Trevor as my husband or the father of our children. 

"We wanted more for you," they would always say. When I was a kid and I pictured having my own family someday, this was definitely never what I pictured; living out in Paleto Bay with two kids, and married to an older man, and a criminal at that. I had grown up in Rockford Hills; the child of a world class plastic surgeon and an interior designer for the stars. I knew my parents were disappointed in the way my life had gone; they were certainly not shy about telling me so. My sister, Marjorie, was the golden child. She was a successful lawyer, engaged to a talented surgeon named Dan, and had just moved into a big house in Chumash.

Still, I didn’t regret anything about how my life had gone. We had moved out to Paleto Bay when I was pregnant with Coralie. Trevor had moaned about leaving Sandy Shores, but had grown to love our little three bedroom home with a big yard; set far back, away from any neighbors. It overlooked the beach behind us; close enough that I could watch the girls play in the sand from the kitchen window. It was perfect. I just wanted to have a nice dinner with my parents and my family where no one yelled for once.

“I’m sorry,” I said, sounding disappointed, “I know you don’t like family get-togethers, but-”

He held up his hands to signal for me to stop talking. “Hey, it’s okay. They’re your family. They were part of the deal when I married you.” He looked down at the table, avoiding eye contact when he spoke up again. “I just… I’m never gonna fit in with them, cupcake.”

“Trev,” I rushed to comfort him, taking his rough, calloused hands in mine, “I don’t want you to be like them. I mean, they’re my family and I love them. But I love you because… well, because you’re you.” I smiled at him. He looked satisfied with my response as he paid the bill for our meal.

“Shall we go get the little ankle-biters?” He extended an arm out in front of him as he stood, gesturing for me to lead the way out. “They haven’t been here to irritate us the entire night; they must be getting antsy.”

“You’re terrible,” I laughed.

-

“Dad, do you want any more green bean casserole?”

My father nodded at me, taking the casserole dish from me. It had been a week since I had told Trevor that my parents would be coming for dinner tonight, and I had hoped that he would be on his best behavior. So far, things had been tense, with my parents throwing snide comments Trevor’s way, and Trevor trying to hold back his sarcastic remarks. 

“You know, Jane, Marjorie and Dan just moved into their new house in Chumash. It’s gorgeous.”

“I know, dad, I talked to her the other day,” I said with frustration. This was a regular occurrence; my parents would brag about my younger sister Marjorie and her incredible accomplishments in an attempt to make me jealous. 

“I just don’t understand why you choose to live out here, Janie,” my mother spoke up. “Everyone out here seems so…”

“So what, mom? Not rich?” I cut her off.

She cleared her throat awkwardly, looking at Coralie and Scarlett across the table. “So, Coralie, how are dance classes?”

“Awesome!” Coralie bounced around in her seat excitedly. “I’m getting so good at it!” I smiled down at my plate as I took another bite of my dinner. Coralie had started taking dance classes when she was six, and had completely fallen in love with it over the past four years. 

"So, Trevor, how is the uh... whatever it is you're doing these days?" You could practically hear the disdain in my father's voice when he said Trevor's name. 

"Oh, I've been mostly picking up people who've jumped bail. It's pretty simple work, but it pays well." We had decided the first time that Trevor met my parents that of all his ventures, this was the least questionable. After all, it wasn’t illegal. The ways in which he collected his targets weren’t always legal, but my parents didn’t have to know that part.

“Well enough to support my daughter and grandchildren?” My father rebutted.

“Dad,” I warned. Trevor gave me a reassuring look before turning his focus to my father.

“You don’t need to worry about that; we do pretty well for ourselves here.”

I snickered at Trevor’s response; if only my parents knew just how much money Trevor had stashed away in the bank. “Dad, we’re fine on money. Seriously. Trevor takes good care of us.”

My father snorted in response. “I certainly hope so.”  
I looked over at my mother, who was sitting quietly, not wanting to get involved.

“Sir, with all due respect,” Trevor began, trying to sound as polite and dignified as possible, “I work damn hard to make sure that Janie and the girls are comfortable and well taken care of. I would never let anything bad happen to them.”

“Well, I certainly hope you’ve gotten some help for yourself, as well.” My father’s voice was cold and spiteful.

“Richard!” my mother hissed at him. Both she and I knew what was coming. Coralie looked back and forth between all of us, trying to get a grasp on the situation that was unfolding. Trevor dropped his fork on his plate. It clattered loudly and made me jump. I looked over at him; his eyes had grown dark and angry-looking.

“You wanna run that by me again? I’m not sure I quite picked up what you were puttin’ down,” Trevor snarled.

“Well,” my father spoke a bit louder this time, “You know, with your anger and all. I’ve seen it first-hand. I wouldn’t want to see you turn that on Janie or the girls; God knows I don’t want any of them getting hurt.”

I swallowed hard when I saw Trevor square his shoulders, sitting up a bit straighter in his seat.  
“Coralie,” I said quietly, “Why don’t you bring Scarlett up to her room and play with her?” I wanted the girls out of the way for this. 

“Now, I’m fuckin’ sure I didn’t just hear you accuse me of putting my hands on any of my girls… Right?”

My father shrugged nonchalantly, as if they were having a casual conversation. “This is exactly what I mean, Trevor. What happens when Jane disagrees with you someday, or one of the girls pushes their luck with you?”

Trevor stood up suddenly, gesticulating wildly as he began yelling. “Jane and I disagree all the goddamn time! I ain’t gonna fuckin’ hurt her because of it! And those girls are happy! I would never lay a hand on them and I’m gonna make sure they have a better father figure than Jane had!”

That was all it took for my father to mirror Trevor’s body language. He jumped to his feet, coming face to face with Trevor, who seemed to tower over him. My father was not intimidated. He exploded with spiteful sounding laughter at Trevor’s words.

“Something fuckin’ funny to you?” Trevor shouted.

“I’ve never trusted you with my girl, you know that? I should’ve stepped in before you ever had the chance to marry her and take her away from us!” My father said, jabbing Trevor in the chest with his finger. I became enraged at my father’s words as he spoke, and I found myself rising to my feet and stalking towards the two of them.

“I think you mean my girl,” Trevor growled.

“Shut up, Trevor,” I snapped. My eyes darted rapidly between him and my father as I continued, “Can you both stop talking about me like I’m some sort of possession? Nobody took me away from you, dad! I chose to come here!”

My father ignored me completely, stepping closer to Trevor. “You’ve never deserved her. She could’ve married a doctor or a lawyer; someone with a shred of class and respect for her!” My father’s voice was becoming louder as he tried to prove a point. I looked over at my mother, who looked as anxious as I felt.

“God, you’re just like Michael, that fat snake,” Trevor shook his head, “Always so fuckin’ judgmental!”

“Mark my words,” my father growled, “If you hurt any of those girls, I’ll kill you.”

Trevor threw his head back as he howled with laughter. “Oh, you’re gonna kill me? Aw,” he mocked, “I’d better watch out! He’s comin’ for me!” He turned to me with a sarcastic grin on his face. “Janie, you never told me your old man here was such a menace! He’s really got me shakin’ in my boots; really! Please, spare me!”

I was irate by that point; Trevor was openly making a mockery of the situation. He knew how much I hated when they fought, and I had tried so hard to make it a nice night for everyone. How could he be so careless about my feelings? 

“You’re pathetic. Really, you are,” my father muttered.

Trevor’s face dropped suddenly into a deadpan expression. “Get out.” Trevor’s voice was quiet and foreboding. 

“Excuse me?” My father tested him.

“Get the hell out of my house!” I had been waiting for that to come out of Trevor’s mouth the entire time. I knew it would. “Who the fuck do you think you are, coming into my house and disrespecting me in front of my wife and my kids?! Get the fuck out!”

My mother jumped to her feet, grabbing my father’s arm and pulling him away from Trevor. “Richard, enough! Let’s go!” She reached for her purse on the sofa as she tugged my father towards the door. 

“I’m sorry,” she mumbled as she hastily pushed my father out the door ahead of her. He fought back against her, trying to reenter the house. “Richard, wait in the damn car!” She slammed the door in his face, and took a deep breath as her eyes darted between Trevor and I. “I’m sorry, you guys.”

Trevor sighed, trying to compose himself. “I’m not angry at you. You just… you know I’d never put my hands on Jane, or the girls, right?”

She nodded at him, hesitantly reaching out a hand to touch his arm. She turned her attention to me as she spoke again. “I’ll see you soon, Janie. Tell the girls we said goodbye.” She looked disappointed as she left, closing the door behind her. I knew this was not how she had wanted dinner to go.

Trevor and I stood in silence for a moment, before I spoke up. “What the hell was that?”

“He thought I was gonna hit you or somethin’! I couldn’t just let him say that shit, cupcake!”

“You couldn’t have just held your tongue until they left?” I knew I was being unfair to Trevor; I would’ve been just as angry had I been in his place.

He paused, opening his mouth to speak before closing it, unsure of what to say. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. Really, I am. I overreacted. I’m sorry I ruined dinner. I’m sorry for everything.”

“I just wanted a nice dinner with my family, Trevor. Is that too much to ask?”

He looked defeated; his shoulders slumped and he looked down at his feet. “No, it’s not. I’m sorry, gorgeous. Can you forgive me?” 

I took a step closer to him, staring him down for a moment before wrapping my arms around his waist. “Of course.” His hands slid down my sides to rest on my waist. I let out a sigh as he planted a kiss on the top of my head. “Do you wanna put the girls to bed while I clean up the kitchen?”

He nodded obediently. “I really am sorry.”

“I know, babe. It’s okay,” I said with a weak smile. The night had not gone the way I wished it would have, but I couldn’t completely blame Trevor. My father was absolutely out of line, and Trevor was right; he was a better father figure to Coralie and Scarlett than my father was to me. He had been absent for most of my childhood. He always had his head buried in his work, and when he wasn’t busy with that, he was usually in his study, alone, with a drink in his hand. 

As I scrubbed the pots and pans with hot, soapy water, I smiled to myself. My father was wrong about Trevor. He wasn’t a monster like my parents thought. Trevor had always been sweet to me, and as I heard him shouting and laughing loudly with the girls upstairs, I knew what kind of a man he was. This was why I had left Rockford Hills; I was in search of something real; something good. Something like this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, the next chapter will probably be a significant jump in time; I haven't decided yet, but I guess we'll see! Thanks for reading. :)


	4. Bad Example

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! I know it's been FOREVER since I updated this, so if you've stuck around and you're still reading, thank you so much! Hope you enjoy. :)

"Hi, Mrs. Philips?" 

"This is she," I answered the voice over the phone.

"Hi, this is Ms. Jeanine calling from Paleto Bay High School. One of our staff members found Coralie smoking a cigarette behind the school today. We confiscated the rest of them and we just wanted to give you a call and let you know that she's been given a three day in-school suspension."

"You're kidding," I grumbled. "Alright. Coralie will be getting an earful tonight. Thank you for letting us know."

"Have a good night," the woman responded to me before hanging up the phone.

I glanced over at Trevor, who was seated at the kitchen table, looking at me with concern. 

"Cora was smoking a cigarette behind the school. She's got a three day in-school suspension," I told him in a flat tone of voice. 

He furrowed his brow, and his concerned expression twisted into a look of rage. He slammed his fist down on the table, and shouted to our daughter, who was upstairs in her bedroom. "Coralie Olivia Philips, get the hell down here!" 

I heard swift footsteps descending down the stairs. She knew what this was about, and as she scurried into the kitchen, I could tell by the expression on her face that she knew she was in trouble. I dropped the dish towel I had been holding onto the counter, and frowned at her. 

"Coralie. Cigarettes, really? What were you thinking?" I spoke calmly but sternly. She looked down at her feet in shame, and Trevor stood up quickly, pushing the chair out behind him. It scraped loudly against the floor and he stalked towards her, stopping directly in front of her. 

"Do you know how bad that is for you?" Trevor shouted, jabbing his finger at the air in front of her. "You tryin' to burn your fuckin' lungs out? What the hell is wrong with you?" 

"Trevor," I cut in, trying to calm him down. Trevor had settled down substantially since Coralie had been born. By the time our second daughter, Scarlett came along, Trevor had practically become a new man. He was determined to be a better father than the one he had been given. Still, he was occasionally prone to angry outbursts, and I knew how he felt about smoking. 

"Filthy fucking habit! What were you thinking? Who bought you them?" Trevor carried on. 

"Dad-" Coralie tried to cut in. 

"Who?! Who fucking bought them?!" Trevor repeated, his voice becoming louder. 

"No one! God, dad, why do you do this?" She shouted back at him. Tears welled up in her eyes as she continued, "You don't even know what happened! You don't understand!" Tears streamed down her cheeks as she stormed out of the room, stomping up the stairs and slamming her bedroom door behind her. I glared at Trevor. 

"Why didn't you let her explain what happened before you lost it, Trev?" I scolded him. 

His shoulders dropped, and a guilty look came over his face as he realized what he had done. "I'll fix it," he muttered, and headed upstairs. 

"Sweetheart," he said softly through the door, "Can I come in?" 

"Whatever," Coralie grumbled. He stepped into her room and sat at the end of the bed, looking vaguely uncomfortable. 

"Sweetheart, I'm sorry I lost my temper." He folded his hands in his lap and looked at her apologetically. 

"You're so unfair! You smoked meth for years and I get caught smoking a stupid cigarette once and you freak out!" She whined. Trevor winced at her words, and I could tell as I looked on from the doorway that she had cut deep. We had tried to keep her sheltered from the facts of Trevor's past for as long as possible. While Scarlett was still fairly unaware, Coralie had slowly put together the pieces of the puzzle of her father's life as she grew older. 

Trevor sighed, and placed a gentle hand on her knee. "Angel, I have done a lot of things I'm not proud of. I am not a good example. I made a lot of mistakes and I fucked up my life. If your mother hadn't come along, I would've probably still been lying around in my trailer fucked up on drugs. I want better for you."

She rolled her eyes, leaning back against her headboard and crossing her arms over her chest. 

"You guys always expect me to be perfect," she complained. 

"We don't expect you to be perfect, pumpkin. We just know what you're capable of. You are smart and beautiful and so talented. You can do anything you set your mind to. Smoking cigarettes behind the school? That's not you, sweetheart. That's why I asked you who gave them to you. It wasn't your idea, was it?" He spoke softly, holding her small hand between his two large, rough, tattooed hands. 

"I just wanted to hang out with Kevin and Darla but they were outside smoking," she confessed, looking embarrassed. 

"Sweetie," I spoke up from the doorway where I had been standing the whole time, "If they're pressuring you to smoke just so you can hang out with them, they aren't very good friends, you know." Trevor nodded in agreement. 

"I guess," Coralie shrugged. "I'm sorry."

"Just don't make us have this conversation again, alright sweetheart?" Trevor told her as he stood up and ruffled her hair. “And don’t ever let me catch you with a cigarette or I’m disowning you,” he joked.

She smoothed her brown curly locks with a vaguely annoyed expression on her face as she nodded at us. 

"Now get your homework done." Trevor pointed at her backpack which had been tossed on the floor by her bed.

"That was better, love," I assured him as he closed her bedroom door behind him. He gave me a weak smile and followed me back downstairs, smacking my behind as I reentered the kitchen. 

"I'm home!" Scarlett shouted as she burst through the front door, letting it slam behind her. I peered into the living room at the nine year old tossing her things on the floor. Her bouncy brown curls, similar to her older sister's, were a tangled mess and she had left a trail of dirty footprints through the entryway behind her. She had spent the afternoon with a friend, and by the looks of it, they had been running through the mud. 

"Mom, dad, guess what?" Scarlett piped up, latching onto Trevor's hands and glancing in my direction.

"What, pumpkin?" Trevor cooed. 

"Molly's mom said she can sleepover tomorrow night!" Scarlett bounced up and down with excitement at the prospect of a sleepover. I laughed, shooing her off to do her homework. 

"Gee, Anne finally cracked on letting Molly come over here, huh?" Trevor spoke up when Scarlett had left the room. 

"She's afraid of you, babe," I teased him as I began preparing dinner. 

"Why, just 'cause I have a few tattoos and scars?" He furrowed his brow at me. He grabbed the knife I had been holding out of my hand and took over chopping up vegetables. 

"Your scars are bullet wounds, Trev. And your knuckles say 'FUCK YOU.' That doesn't exactly scream 'kid friendly.'"

He scowled at me. "Maybe if people weren't so fuckin' judgmental..." He trailed off, and although I had brought up the topic jokingly, I could tell he was irritated. I hugged him from behind as he took his anger out on a head of broccoli. 

"I love you, Trev. You're perfect to me. Anne can go take a long walk off a short pier if she doesn't like you, and so can everyone else."

He sighed, his muscles relaxing under my touch. "I love you, too, cupcake." He planted a kiss on the top of my head before speaking up again.

"Do you think the girls are embarrassed by me?" He blurted out. 

I looked at him with sympathetic eyes. Every now and then, Trevor would let a bit of his insecurity show, proving that he wasn't made of stone the way he wanted people to think. 

"Trev," I spoke sweetly, rubbing his arm affectionately, "Are you crazy? They don't care about your tattoos or your scars. Those girls adore you. You're a good father, love. Don't doubt yourself." 

"I just want them to have everything I didn't." He looked down at the cutting board, clearly trying to hide his pain.

"They do, babe. Look around. Everything we have is because of you-"

"It's dirty money," he cut me off, still staring down at his hands. 

"Regardless, you work hard to give us all a good life.” I placed a hand under his chin, raising his head to press my lips against his. Those girls aren't hurting for anything. They're happy, Trev. And so am I. You're a good man. I don't care what anyone else thinks."

 

-

 

I woke up at 4:30 am to Trevor quietly climbing out of bed, trying not to disturb me. I rubbed my eyes, trying to make out his figure in the dark. 

"Babe?" I mumbled.

"Go back to sleep, beautiful," Trevor whispered, affectionately stroking my cheek. 

"Where are you going?" 

"The Aztecas are comin' after the lab, again, Chef needs my help. I gotta drive out to Sandy Shores," he explained quietly, trying not to wake the girls. 

"Now?" I whined, trying to pull him back under the covers.

I heard the rustling of him pulling on his jeans and zipping them up as he answered me. "Yes, darlin'. I wish I didn't have to." 

I squinted in the darkness, watching him tuck a pistol into his waistband and pull his shirt down over it. He reached across the bed to kiss me on the forehead, and gently tucked my hair behind my ear as he pulled away. 

"Please be careful, love," I begged him. 

"Yeah, yeah." 

"Please, Trevor, don't do anything stupid." 

"I know, I know, doll face. I'll be safe."

I sighed, turning over under the covers, and whispered to him, "I love you, Trev."

"Love you too, sweetheart," he said gruffly, quietly closing the bedroom door behind him as he left. I closed my eyes and listened to his truck starting up in the driveway, breaking through a thick atmosphere of quiet, filled only with the sound of crickets. 

Moments later, I felt a small body climbing into bed and snuggling up next to me.

"Why does daddy leave so early sometimes?" I heard Scarlett mumble. 

"He's got work to do, honey," I told her, not wanting to get into the details of what he was doing. She sighed, clearly unhappy with the answer I had given her. I changed the topic. "Are you excited about your sleepover with Molly tomorrow night?" 

I felt her nod enthusiastically against my shoulder. "I can't believe she can actually come over now!" I chuckled as I pulled her closer to me, gently stroking her hair. Her voice softened as she spoke again. "How come none of my friends' parents let them come over? Why are they scared of dad?" 

I swallowed hard. How could I explain to her why the other parents scowled at Trevor at school functions, or why almost none of her friends were allowed to sleepover at our house? 

"Most people don't know dad like we do, honey. Some people judge him just based on what they see." I explained, trying to think of what to say next. Scarlett turned onto her side to face me, peering at me through the darkness. 

"You mean like how he has swears tattooed on him? Or how he gets mad?" 

I nodded, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear. She crammed her arm under the pillow that her head was resting on, wiggling around in an attempt to make herself comfortable. 

"Howcome daddy gets mad and yells sometimes?" Scarlett paused, looking past me out the open window.

I chewed on my lip nervously, knowing that I had to have the same difficult discussion I had had with Coralie years ago. Trevor's past was a complicated web that had taken me years to hack through. Each one of his flaws was a string that wound haphazardly through the rest, and following them all the way to center of the web was one of the most difficult tasks I had ever achieved. 

"Baby, daddy didn't really have same experiences as a kid that you and your sister have," I began. 

"What do you mean?"

"You feel safe at home, right? With dad and I, and Coralie?" I asked her. She nodded back at me. 

"Yeah, of course." 

"Dad didn't have that, sweetie. His parents weren't very good to him." 

"Did they hurt him? Like, hit him?" I could hear the pure innocence in her voice as she questioned me.

"His dad did. And his mom neglected him a lot."

"Neglected him?"

"Well," I turned onto my back to look up and the ceiling, and continued, "Sometimes dad didn't have dinner at night. And when he was little like you, sometimes his clothes didn't fit him. The other kids weren't very nice to him, either."

"Poor dad," Scarlett spoke up in a sympathetic tone of voice. "So that's why he gets mad?" 

"People show their pain in different ways, baby. Daddy doesn't like himself very often. He has a lot of hurt and a lot of anger inside of him."

"I don't like when he yells," Scarlett said softly. I sighed. 

"I don't either, baby. But he loves you so much. And you know he would never hurt you, right?" She nodded at me. "He loves all three of us. That's why he works so hard. He wants to give you girls what he didn't get. He loves you both more than you'll ever know." 

She looked lost in thought as she stared out the window. "I'm gonna tell daddy I love him tomorrow." 

"That's a good idea, sweetie. I know he likes to hear that." I smiled at her, and poked her on the nose. "You need to go to sleep. You've got school in the morning."

Right on cue, she yawned, tossing one of her little arms across my stomach and resting her head on my shoulder. I closed my eyes and listened to her soft breathing in my ear. 

"I love you, momma," she said in a groggy voice. 

"I love you more." 

 

-

 

“Scarlett, you’re so weird!”  
“No I’m not! You’re weird!”  
“Go away!”  
“No!”  
There was a loud slap, followed by a shrill yell.  
“Moooom! Coralie hit me!” Scarlett wailed, scampering upstairs to find me.  
“Don’t hit your sister!” I called out.

"Mom, I need lunch money!" I heard Coralie yelling from downstairs. I stood in the upstairs bathroom, pulling Scarlett's hair back into a french braid.

"Take it out of my wallet, Cora!" I shouted back. I slipped a bobby pin into Scarlett’s braid to keep it in place, and let her run off to get dressed for school. I said goodbye to Coralie as she ran out to the school bus. Scarlett sat at the kitchen table, chewing on a mouthful of cereal. The elementary school bus usually came about twenty five minutes after the high school bus. 

It was 7 am when Scarlett skipped down the driveway, on her way out to the bus, and I hadn't heard from Trevor yet. I had tried to hide my anxiety from the girls; I didn't want to explain to them what their father was doing. When Trevor and I had started dating, he would get into rage-fueled shootouts multiple times a week. Over the years, he had calmed down; he knew that every violent fight he got into created a risk of his daughters having to grow up without a father. Still, when the gangs out in Sandy Shores came after his business, he would defend it the only way he knew how. Usually, when the chaos subsided, he would call me so I knew he was safe. I was riding waves of anxiety, picturing him on the floor of his meth lab, severely injured and unable to call for help.

Around 9 am, my phone rang. I felt a wave of relief wash over me when I heard Trevor's voice. 

"Cupcake! How's it goin'?"

"Oh, Trevor, thank God you're okay. I was worried when I hadn't heard from you."

"Sorry, darlin', I didn't wanna wake you up early, and then I got tied up in some stuff," he explained, "I gotta stay out here for a little while, though. I’d bet any amount of money those assholes are gonna come back with more men. I should be home by dinner time, alright?" 

I sighed, answering in a disappointed tone, "Alright, babe. Stay safe. I love you." 

"Love you too, sweetheart."

I always worried when he was gone for too long. The last time he had spent more than a night in Sandy Shores, he came back with multiple stab wounds. When 8 pm rolled around and I hadn’t heard from him, my anxiety crept back up again. I hid my concern when the girls asked about his whereabouts. He hadn’t answered my calls, and I decided that if he hadn’t returned home by midnight, I would drive out to Sandy Shores to look for him. I tried to distract myself until then.

 

-

 

His car engine ripped through the silence of the night. It was always quiet at night; the only sounds that could be heard were the hum of crickets and peep frogs, and the waves softly lapping at the beach behind the house. My heart hammered against the inside of my ribcage. I knew the sound of his truck. He was alive. I tripped down the stairs; my feet were clumsy and my brain moved faster than my body would allow.

"Trevor!"

I sprinted out the front door and across the front lawn. I had just planted a bunch of flowers that morning; I didn't care. I trampled through the flower bed, throwing myself into his arms as he stumbled out of his truck.

"Hey, gorgeous. I missed you." He spoke quickly, and his words came tumbling out of his mouth all at once. He shot me a cheeky grin, his hands resting on my hips. I held him away from me at arms length, frantically looking him over for any wounds. His shirt was torn and tattered, and he was covered in dirt and blood. His skin was spattered with cuts, and the dark bruise on the left side of his face told me that he had gotten into a fist fight with someone during the raid. But he was okay. From what I could see, he didn’t have any bullet wounds or large gashes in his skin. He was okay. He was alive.

"Oh my God, Trevor. You're okay!" I pulled him towards me, wrapping my arms around him tightly. He smelled of death; I didn't care. 

"Told ya I'd be back." He threw up his hands in a grand fashion, making a show of it. He seemed even more animated than usual, and I studied his face in the pale moonlight, trying to decipher his behavior. 

"Trev," I began. I knew I would have to tread carefully in order to get the truth out of him. "Baby, are you high?" I made sure that my voice was gentle and non-judgmental. The last time he had relapsed, the fight that followed was ugly.

"No," he shot back, twisting a string from the hemline of his t-shirt around his index finger. “Just had a couple drinks.” I cupped his chin in my hand, gently lifting his head to meet my eye line.

"Please don't lie to me, Trevor."

He stared down at his feet, looking ashamed of himself. "Alright, I smoked up with Ron and Wade before I came home. Chef had a new batch and seeing as how the Aztecas didn't get to it, Ron wanted me to try it, and I was feeling good after that fight and I just -" 

"Trev, it's okay." I shifted my weight awkwardly, stepping closer to him. He was so warm; I could feel the heat coming off of him from where I was standing. It made me realize how chilly the night was; the humidity hung in the air, still, but the breeze blowing through the trees was cool and crisp.

"What do you mean, it's okay?!" He raised his voice slightly, suddenly looking furious. "I got two kids sleeping inside and I just went and smoked up and 'it's okay?!'"

His sudden change in mood startled me. "I just meant-"

"I'm a fucking wreck," he muttered. I raised a hand to his arm, rubbing it gently. 

"You're not. You messed up. It's okay. It's been years, Trev." 

He shook his head. "Just thought I was over this shit." 

I frowned at him. "Let's get you into the shower, huh? You'll feel much better." 

He nodded in agreement and followed me inside, his hand held tightly in mine.

 

-

 

"Mom?" 

I looked up from my book to find Coralie standing in the bedroom doorway, chewing on her fingernails.

"What are you doing up, honey? It's 1 am. You've got school in the morning."

She looked concerned as she took a few unsure steps into the room. "Is dad okay?" 

I closed my book and looked up at her. "He's alright, sweetie. He's just washing up." 

"Did he get hurt?" Her voice was pure and sweet as she spoke. I hated that she knew the details of what her father did. We had hidden it from her for as long as we could, but at sixteen, she had already put together the pieces of the puzzle. We had let her in on the secret, making her promise to keep it from her younger sister. Scarlett was still young, and we strove to let her hold onto her innocent view of the world for as long as possible. 

"Just a few cuts and bruises. He's okay." I patted the bed, gesturing for her to come sit with me while I waited for Trevor to get out of the shower.

"I heard him come in," she began, speaking slowly. "Did he smoke?" 

I swallowed hard. The sound of the clock ticking up on the wall was deafening. I nodded at her. 

"It's okay, mom, I get it." 

She was an angel; always so understanding and kind. I studied her sympathetic eyes; big, bright, caramel-colored disks, just like her father's. Her messy brown curls fell over her face, and she pushed them back with a sigh. 

"The last time he slipped up, you were six."

"Why'd he do it?" She looked down at her hands, chipping off the purple nail polish from her fingernails.

"I don't know, honey," I confessed. "I wish I did. Sometimes I think all that hurt inside of him just takes over."

"He should go to therapy. Uncle Mike and Aunt Amanda go all the time," she said, shrugging her shoulders. I heard the shower turn off.

"Yeah, picture your dad in therapy. That therapist would be looking for the nearest exit," I chuckled. Coralie stifled a giggle right as Trevor emerged from the bathroom in a pair of sweatpants, looking much cleaner than he had earlier. He looked at the two of us, clearly holding in our laughter. 

"What's so funny?" He smiled innocently, wanting in on the joke. 

I shook my head. "Nothing, nothing. You had to be there." 

He looked deflated as he flopped down onto the bed beside me.

“I got stabbed,” he told me nonchalantly. “Didn’t notice it until I showered and cleaned up.”

“Trevor!” I gasped. “Where?” He gestured at a sizeable gash in his side, right below his ribcage. It was hardly something he hadn’t dealt with a hundred times. Coralie looked worried as I padded into the bathroom to get out some medical supplies. Over the years, I had become pretty skilled at dealing with his wounds. I had learned how to properly clean out and bandage his injuries, even learning from Chef how to stitch up a wound. He glanced over at Coralie with a confused expression. "Angel, what're you doin' up? You've got school tomorrow."

“Just wanted to make sure you were okay,” she mumbled, looking down at her hands. I knew she was trying not to focus on the needle I was currently sterilizing. Trevor sucked in a burst of air through his teeth as I carefully punctured his skin, slowly stitching him up.

“I appreciate the concern, pumpkin, but you gotta get your beauty sleep.” He gestured for her to come around to his side of the bed. “Not that you need it with that pretty face.” He ruffled her hair affectionately, and she leaned down to give him a hug. “Go on; get to bed.”

"Yeah, yeah, I'm goin'," she grumbled. She rolled her eyes as she headed out of the bedroom, waving goodnight to us as she closed the door behind her. There was a long moment of silence between Trevor and I before he spoke up. 

"She knew I was high, didn't she?" 

I avoided answering him directly. "You know, she understands, Trev." 

"Like hell, she does," he snapped, "I'm a perfect fuckin' example of what not to be."

I bandaged up his wound and gathered up the medical supplies I had just used, placing them on the nightstand beside me. I scooted closer to him, leaning my head against his shoulder. He smelled nice; like aftershave and spearmint toothpaste.

"Stop it, Trevor. It was just a slip up."

He dismissed what I said, sliding further under the covers and turning over onto his side. I knew he would be grumpy until the lasting effects of the speed wore off. I didn't care; I was just happy he was home safe.


End file.
